


In The Dark of the Night

by NahaFlowers



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Anna is not as straight as originally planned, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mary and Anna actually talk about Pamuk, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:10:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14568735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NahaFlowers/pseuds/NahaFlowers
Summary: The aftermath of the Pamuk incident. Mary asks Anna to stay the night with her. How could she refuse?





	In The Dark of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is briefly referenced in [Smoking in the Courtyard](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12188526), which you should go and read after this if you're into Thomas and Anna friendship. This was actually written on the same day, but I've only got round to typing it up and posting it now, nearly 8 months later.
> 
> The Pamuk incident, and what it means to Mary (and what it means to Anna and Mary's relationship, both at the time and later in reference to what happens to Anna in s4) is something that I think really needed more discussion on the show, and certainly deserves to be addressed in fic.

After they had returned the late Mr Pamuk to his room, Anna accompanied Lady Mary back to hers, along with Lady Grantham. She held Mary’s hand as her mother told her how ashamed she was, as Mary spoke, “Yes, Mama,” in a voice Anna had never heard her use before, small, defeated. She stood firm as Lady Grantham sought reassurance that no word of this would leave her lips – of _course_ she’d never betray Mary like that, the very idea! And then she followed Mary into her room as Lady Grantham took her leave, closing the door behind them.

Mary just stood there, staring back at Anna with a lost look in her eyes, and Anna simply strode forward and took her in her embrace. She didn’t even have to think about it – it was just the right thing to do, she thought, as Mary finally let go and started to weep into the shoulder of her nightgown.

Presently, Mary drew away and wiped her eyes perfunctorily. “I apologise, Anna,” she said, sounding much more Lady-Mary-like, although still not quite herself.

Anna shook her head. “There’s nothing to apologise for, milady,” she said, offering her a small smile. She hesitated, not wanting to bring up what had happened unless Mary did, but – “Would you like me to run you a bath, milady?” she asked quietly.

Mary’s eyes flashed to Anna’s guiltily, and Anna wanted nothing more than to wipe that look off her face.

“Yes, I suppose so,” said Mary, looking at her feet, her voice sounding steady and controlled, but tireder and older than Anna had ever heard.

Anna nodded, and made her way to the bathroom.

As Mary soaked, Anna prepped a new nightgown for her, throwing the old one outside Mary’s room and promising herself to burn it when she got the chance.

When Mary emerged, dressed in her robe, she looked more at peace but extremely tired.

“Let’s get you to bed, shall we?” said Anna softly, holding out the fresh nightgown, and Mary came to her and let Anna dress her, brush her long hair free of tangles, and help her into bed.

“Goodnight, my Lady,” Anna said, making to leave her bedside, but Mary grabbed her hand. Anna turned back to the bed, raising her eyebrows.

Mary looked away, but her grip on Anna’s hand remained tight, though not bruising.

“Yes, milady?”

Mary’s gaze flickered inevitably back to her, and then the door. “I just…would you…” she faltered, but Anna was following Mary’s gaze, which kept being drawn back to the closed door, before she forced herself to look away again.

“You want me to stay with you?” Anna asked, not adding ‘ _because you’re terrified of him coming back, even though he’s dead_ ’.

Mary nodded. “Only if it’s no trouble.” Then she closed her eyes, as if silently berating herself. When she opened them, she had hitched a smile onto her face. “Never mind it, Anna,” she said. “You’ve put yourself to enough trouble tonight, on my account.”

Anna was already shaking her head. “It’s no trouble,” she said, absolutely truthfully. “If you’d like me to stay, my Lady, I will.”

Mary looked relieved, and pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed, indicating that she should get in. Anna blanched slightly – she had assumed Mary would want her to sleep on the sofa, and being so close to her was not something she had prepared herself for. Still, Mary obviously needed her close, and she was her friend – as well as her maid – so Anna climbed into bed next to her without complaint.

“Should I blow the lamp out?” Anna whispered, after a minute. There was only one flickering lamp giving paltry light to the room, on the bedside table next to her.

“Yes,” said Mary, just as quietly, and Anna blew out the lamp. They lay there in silence for a few minutes, until Anna felt Mary’s hand creep into hers.

“I didn’t invite him in,” Mary said, and Anna froze. “He found my room, somehow. But I didn’t fight him off, either.” There was a hitch of breath next to her and Anna imagined Mary closing her eyes and breathing hard, trying to fight off the tears that threatened to fall. “I didn’t want him there. I threatened to ring the bell, or scream, but he reminded me what a scandal _that_ would cause, so I thought it would just be easier to – to submit to his wishes. Let him have his way with me.” Her voice was dripping with self-loathing and disgust, and Anna hated it, gripped her hand all the tighter, pulling it close to her chest, practically biting her tongue to keep from saying something Mary might not appreciate, or might make her clam up. After all, Anna imagined, this would be the only time she would ever talk about what had happened so honestly, and Anna’s only job was to listen, and offer comfort where possible.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now, anyway,” she said bitterly. “My own mother knows my shame, and if gets out, the scandal will be – well, certainly worse than any scandal that would have been caused had I called people to my room.”

“It won’t get out,” said Anna reassuringly. She reached a hand around and stroked Mary’s back, and Mary pressed into her, tension easing. “And what happened – wasn’t your fault.”

Mary snorted into Anna’s shoulder, an indelicate sound that most people would never have expected from a Lady. “Then whose fault was it, Anna?”

“ _His_ ,” said Anna vehemently. “It was _his_ fault, Mary.” She had never felt about anything more strongly than this, not even when she’d faced up to her stepfather with a knife. Perhaps it was easier to see the truth of things from the outside, she thought.

Mary sighed, but said nothing, merely shifting to a slightly more comfortable position with her head resting on Anna’s chest. Anna found her hand in Mary’s hair and began running her fingers through the still slightly damp locks, and Mary sighed more peacefully, and that was how they fell asleep.

 

The next morning, Anna woke with the first rays of the sun through the windows, and prayed she wouldn’t be too late, although she was sure Mary would excuse her, somehow. It was the reactions of the other servants she was worried about.

“Anna?” said Mary sleepily, blinking up at her, and Anna barely resisted the impulse to lean down and kiss her on the forehead, instead opting to stroke the hair away from her face, hoping such an intimate gesture was allowed in the light of day.

“Hush,” Anna said comfortingly, gratified when the lines of – confusion, or fear, perhaps? – smoothed away from her brow. “Go back to sleep. I’m just going downstairs. Ring when you need me, milady.”

Mary nodded into the pillow. “Anna,” she said blearily, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Anna whispered, but Mary had already fallen back to sleep.


End file.
